


Risky Business

by Ayngelcat



Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Gen, M/M, References to smut and romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-07
Updated: 2013-10-07
Packaged: 2017-12-28 17:21:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/994564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ayngelcat/pseuds/Ayngelcat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Swindle gets Smokescreen to help him pull off a robbery at the Bank of Iacon, it does not go exactly as planned.</p><p>Inspired by tf_speedwriting promps 'bank robbery' but definitely not a piece of speedwriting.</p><p>Many thanks to ultharkitty for beta.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Risky Business

_Notes from draft of ‘a small history of Cybertron’ by Prowl, Senior Enforcer, Cybertron._

Credit transfer on Cyberton had been electronic for eons. Yet there were vaults in the Bank of Iacon that held ‘solid’ credits.’ Made of paper thin alloys and backed with very fine gold leaf, they were affectionately known as ‘Goldbacks.’‘Fads’ at times had seen their use on Cybertron popular, but their potential to foster black market trading had rendered their official use illegal. Their value in case of emergency was, however, recognized, and thus Cybertronians never could quite bring themselves to dispose of such a fond piece of planetary history.

In time, there were many discussions; yet this curious attachment left even the most progressive Bank staff reluctant to part with tradition. Emergency, of course, never eventuated. The existence of the credits became a tiresome topic – as nobody knew what to do with them.  Eventually, the vaults were sealed - yet the credits there remained. They were not a priority, however, and in time the security that surrounded them was perhaps rather less than would have been wise.

For because Goldbacks were still recognized off-world in at least three thousand  locations of dubious morality, they were hardly without value to types that might frequent those destinations. Which is why the security situation remained in my view grossly inadequate. A matter about which I determined to do something, if the opportunity arose.

..........................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................

**Iacon, pre-war**

//Do you want me to go over it again?// Swindle sounded irritable.

Smokescreen sighed restlessly. //No – look – I got it. At precisely 00.05, just as the security shifts are changing between cycles, I create a diversion on the fifth floor. What resources security has will be deployed there. At 00.10 I disable the cameras to the lower levels, just as you guys come through the main entrance. Whilst security are busy with the camera ‘glitch’ and the fifth floor ‘emergency’ you get down to the vaults. You know the combination. It’s just collect and run from there.//

//You sure the cameras won’t be working?//

//They won’t be working//

//No security geeks?//

//Nope!//

//My career’s riding on this, Smoke. You sure the combination’s right?//

//I’m sure, Swin, right? Just chill, will ya? I used to work there – remember?//

Oh yes - Smokescreen certainly remembered the long dreary shifts, stacking Goldbacks into neat little piles and counting them with co-workers that were so pedantic that even the suggestion of a pile not being of the right thickness would send their circuits into apoplexy. But one good thing had come of it:  Smokescreen knew the Goldback systems inside out, knew every inch of the vaults.

And right now, he felt rather good about this – almost enough to forget that his own career would be _completely over_ if what Swindle was about to do was ever discovered and he was identified as an accomplice. Who needed those old Goldbacks anyway?  They were a nuisance, festering away down there; not that anyone would even notice, in these times, if a few went missing. So long as nobody got hurt…

//It’ll be cool,// Smokescreen said. //Just on the way out – you know – no trouble.//

Swindle huffed slightly. //No promises – but so long as it all runs like you say, there won’t be any need for any messy business. And I’ll have Tex with me, remember...?//

 _How could I forget?_   Smokescreen could not suppress a chuckle.//Yeah Swin - if it came to that then I’m sure one threat from him and they’ll just throw down their weapons and lay on the floor…// _Oh yeah, why would you even think about not doing that?_

//Exactly!// Swindle sounded happier. //Well Smoke, I’m well on the way to a permanent job with Onslaught, and you’re well on the way to fixing your debts. Plus I gather there’s a trip to Monacus in the offing – that Tex is organizing. So let’s look to the future shall we?//

//Yeah?// Well that was a _very_ nice outcome to look forward to, very nice indeed. So was repaying Prowl – which might appease all of Smokescreen’s disappointed relations. Just so long as - _oh Primus forbid no_ \- his cousin never found out _how_ he’d gotten on top of his finances again.

At least there was little danger of that. Prowl, having recently received an award for nailing an assassination attempt on a senator, was away on vacation with his detective, Jazz – who he was ‘with’ although nobody was supposed to know about that. Smokescreen gathered they wouldn’t be back in a hurry.

//One more question// Swindle was saying. //You’re sure there won’t be any cops?//

//Of course not// Smokescreen said. He even managed to laugh. 

//Sweet!// Swindle said. //Next cycle, then? When its over. We’ll see you at the space port.//

//You got it//Smokescreen said. He could already see the lights of Monacus flashing.

 

Next cycle, however, was a different matter.   


Smokescreen trained his attention on the data on the screen, trying not to think too much about the forthcoming ‘agenda.’ But of course, that was impossible. Instead, his mind reeled at what would soon transpire, and he had to keep forcing himself into a state of calm.

They were going to rob the _Bank_ , for Primus' sake. How _could_ he have been so complacent? Had he really become so besotted with his new found companions that he had stooped to helping them with _this?_

 _I_ _t’s not stooping – it’s a strategic move for my own good,_ he told himself. _Swindle knows what he’s doing. They are going to walk in, cool as a crystal pool, posing as engineers and wheeling maintenance trolleys._ _They will go down to the vaults and help themselves and depart, and nobody is going to raise an optic ridge…._

But then…

_…hell! This is Swindle and Vortex and Brawl we’re talking about. They look nothing like maintenance mechs, they’ve got form, and they argue all the time!_

Somehow, Smokescreen just could not quite believe that everything would go as smoothly as Swindle had suggested.

 _But I must have faith,_ he told himself. _Faith in my own abilities. The cameras are gonna be off. Everyone from security’s gonna be up here. They’re gonna be investigating the ‘disturbance’ aren’t they? The one that I’m gonna cause – except they won’t know that. I hope…_

Oh Primus, the consequences if he screwed this up! He pictured visiting Swindle and Vortex in jail, his apologies going unheard as Vortex leaned close. _“When we get outta here you’re kinda – dead. Got it?”_ And whilst the thought of that sort of talk from Vortex ordinarily sent excitement screaming down every synapse in Smokescreen’s sensor net, somehow its application to himself did not have quite the same appeal.

Besides which, then he’d _never_ pay off his gambling debts.

Smokescreen reached down and, with a shaky hand, pulled open the bottom drawer to his desk. He took a deep intake, before removing several objects - three smoke canisters, then a small cylinder – that last being the electro disruptor that Swindle had gotten from -

Well – Smokescreen didn’t _know_ where from, exactly.

Smokescreen groaned inwardly. That was yet another thing. He didn’t want to know! Just having the highly illegal device here was enough probably to land him in serious trouble, even without the rest.

“Ah Smokescreen – I was hoping I would find you here!”

Smokescreen had not heard anyone come in. The voice cut through the air. Every circuit in Smokescreen’s frame froze at the crisp, all too familiar tone. No! It couldn’t be _…_

“I’m aware that you have a somewhat busy schedule, Smokescreen, but I was wondering if you could spare a few moments of your attention. I’d especially like you to meet my new recruits.”

Oh, but it was. But - that was unthinkable. Prowl wasn’t even in IACON _?_ But no - Smokescreen looked up, and straight into the piercing blue optics of his enforcercousin. At the door he glimpsed several others, all as impeccably turned out as their superior.

“Er…” he said, his mouth dropping open. “Er – um…”

Prowl, as usual, looked as though nothing in the universe could ruffle him in the slightest. He regarded Smokescreen expectantly, a touch of irritation clear beneath the gleaming chevron.

“Er – well hey, what a swell surprise!” Smokescreen tried to smile, certain this cane out more like an agonized grimace. “Say - I thought you were on the Iron Coast?”

 

“Pretty flash in here, eh?”

Paused in the entrance vestibule, Brawl could not keep his optics from the splendor that was the Bank of Iacon. He stared at the ornate gilded arches to the many corridors leading away from the concourse, his optics setting on a large platinum statue of an esteemed-looking mech, evidently some former eminent figure in the Bank’s hierarchy.

“Check that out!” the tank exclaimed in a loud voice. “Hey Swin – it must be worth a fortune. What say we knock some of this other gear off an’ all on the way out?”

Swindle, who had been trying to contact Smokescreen with no success whatsoever, hissed impatiently when several heads turned. “Keep your voice down. And try and act professional! We’re meant to be systems experts – used to this kinda thing. And no we are not gonna procure anything other than what we have come here for.”

“I wouldn’t mind procuring a few extras!” Vortex grinned, his optics not on the décor but on the elegant procession of mechs and femmes that teemed through the vestibule. His rotors gave a predatory twitch at a particularly shapely femme who flushed slightly and rewarded him with an encouraging smile. “I haven’t seen legs like that since we gatecrashed that fashion thingy at the Praxian place.”

“Hey yeah!” Brawl laughed, entranced, his attention also diverting from the architecture to the more ‘alive’ sculptures. “Hey Tex - maybe we could come back later an’…”

“Will you both be quiet!” Swindle snapped. “I’m trying to think.”

The grounder was not happy. There was still no response from Smokescreen. What was the idiot playing at? He’d promised he’d let them know when the area was clear of security.

Swindle looked anxiously at the entrance to the narrow corridor that he knew led to the stair case that in turn led down to the vaults. _Surely he hasn’t set us up_ , the thought flashed uncomfortably through the yellow grounder’s mind.

But no – Smokescreen wouldn’t do that. Especially not with Vortex involved in the operation. And it wasn’t from fear of what the copter would do if he didn’t cooperate – more of what he _wouldn’t_ do. In fact, that was probably the problem. Smokescreen was too busy daydreaming about gleaming black metal and rotors to have noticed the time was ‘up.’ The dork.

Still no answer. And now the novelty of the vestibule was wearing off, and Swindle’s two accomplices were starting to look bored. That wasn’t a good prospect. Nor was going out empty handed and back to Onslaught, or Blast Off, who’d been hard enough to talk into this excursion as it was. 

Besides which, a vision of those stacks of golden credits again filled Swindle’s processor, making his sensors tingle with the need for gratification. The hell with talking to Smokescreen. He’d have come to the party – if he knew what was good for him.

“C’mon,” Swindle said. “Look sharp – let’s do it.” Drawing himself up and adopting the most corporate “I mean business” look he could muster, Swindle strutted towards the corridor entrance.

 

“Much as I enjoy vacations, one can’t lounge around when there’s work to do,” Prowl said stiffly. He turned to the other mechs in the room. “Now - this is Straightline, my most senior recruit.” He nodded at the enthusiastic looking grounder who saluted Smokescreen. “And here we have Patroller, Magnum, Response and Duty, all of whom received honours at the academy this year.” 

As the others saluted in turn, Smokescreen could only gulp and make a feeble attempt to return the gesture in an attempt to hide the nightmare that was unfolding.

For even having these cadetmechs in the building right now was a disaster. Every one of them suited their name to the last letter. The epitome of law and order, they looked ready to spring into action at even the slightest hint of criminal activity, to arrest without questions, detain without mercy. The implications when it came to Swindle and his team were so obvious they were painful.

 _And they were down there right now!_ Smokescreen was ready to believe Primus really had something against him for making Prowl’s timing _suck_ so completely. He cringed as his com pinged again, imagining Swindle’s extreme annoyance at his not answering it, feeling helpless at the impending catastrophe.

 _For now what?_ Any moment now, Smokescreen expected the siren would go off, anticipated these splendid paragons of justice galvanizing into action. Yet answering that com was out of the question. Prowl would _know_   – he had a ‘thing’ about mechs taking calls in the middle of being spoken to, especially when introductions were in order. And his cousin was just as likely to do a sneaky intercept – just in case ‘something untoward’ was the subject of the call.

But amazingly, no siren came. Instead, Prowl’s optics fell on the pile of smoke canisters on the chair, the electro disruptor sitting beside them. He frowned slightly, and turned back to his recruits, who were regarding Smokescreen with interest, as though - polite though they were - whatever they had been expecting wasn’t quite what they now saw. 

The one called Straightline stiffened to attention. “We’ve heard a great deal about you Sir,” he said to Smokescreen. Blue optics glittered in a handsome face, but with a distinct underlying intolerance. It was not hard to see why this one had gone straight up in Prowl’s esteem.

Prowl smiled firmly. “Yes indeed,” he said. “I’ve been telling them about your work here Smokescreen, the level of trust that the Bank has place in you owing to your talents in the financial organization department and your strong sense of responsibility…” he fixed Smokescreen with a ‘look.’ “As a matter of fact…” his optic ridges knitted. “I thought you could do me a small favour…”

 _Oh Primus, now what?_ Smokescreen was sure now that the reason for the lack of alarm was that the others were hanging around down there, waiting. Swindle would be furious! What if they hatched a different plan – what if Vortex decided to go ahead with it anyway and blast his way through security? Smokescreen hardly dared even think of the consequences. He had to fob Prowl off somehow.

“Smokescreen?” Prowl looked impatient.

“Er right…” Smokescreen tried to look apologetic. “I’d love to. Thing is though, I’m kinda - busy.”

A brief flash of the kind of intolerance Smokescreen knew only too well swept across Prowl’s faceplates. _After your recent conduct, I would have thought this was the least you could do…_ Smokescreen could imagine him thinking.

“Magnum and Response here have a great interest in Cybertronian history,” Prowl went on, as though Smokescreen had not spoken. “And I myself approve of this enormously, after all an understanding of the present is based on a grasp of past events is it not? So I’d like to show them all some of it today. I’d like you to arrange for us to have access to the Goldback credit vaults in the basement.”

Smokescreen’s energon pump nearly stalled. For a moment, things went a little hazy as his intakes hitched and his circuits positively spasmed, going not just cold but almost into complete stasis.

“What?” he gasped. “I – uh – well…I dunno! I mean-” he avoided Prowl’s optics. “Isn’t there somewhere else that’s just as good. Like – er – the view from the uppermost tower platform, for instance?”

The others smiled politely, but Prowl darkened – as was all too common when others were about to hinder him getting his way. It was, Smokescreen knew, one of the qualities that had earned his cousin that ‘tenacious’ reputation. “No, that wasn’t what I asked,” he said briskly. “And I asked about the vaults because I know you have a particular knowledge in that department, Smokescreen, and because I also wish to examine a few other features of that somewhat archaic set up down there. Now – are you able to take us? Or should I ask one of your superiors?”

“NO! Er – no…” Smokescreen forced a smile. “I can organize something.” If he could just find a way to stall them, enough time to allow him to comm Swindle and tell him to _get the hell out of_ down there, whatever he was doing right now.

“Good mech. Let’s get going then…”

A more approving look was back on Prowl’s face, although he frowned again as the others left Smokescreen's office, again regarding the objects on the chair. //I’m rather concerned about what you have there Smokescreen,// he said over private comm. //That electro disruptor looks rather like one that was stolen from the police department a number of cycles ago. And what are you doing with a device like that anyway? I’d be obliged if later we could have a conversation about it.//

//Yeah sure…// This was hardly good news either – if not really a surprise. But it paled in comparison to the consequences if other events now transpiring in this building were not curtailed with all possible speed.

 

“Get as much into these containers as you can!” Swindle’s optics sparkled in the dim lighting at the magnitude of the wealth before him. And what they were taking today barely scratched the surface. Swindle would be able to take up those investments he’d been after on Delta, and Onslaught would be well pleased. Swindle was certain he could ‘borrow’ Onslaught’s team again for another mission in the future.

In addition to which, they were gonna have a ball on Monacus. Oh yeah - even Vortex was smiling now.

And despite his abysmal level of communication, Smokescreen had obviously done the business, for the only security guards they’d encountered were heading in the opposite direction. They seemed distracted and excited about something. “Is he really here?” he'd heard one of them whisper. “Yeah – seems like it,” the other had wittered back. “The boss is gonna be rapt!”

It was puzzling, because Smokescreen’s diversion had been going to be more along the lines of an _emergency_ , Swindle had thought. Some kind of security threat - something that would send them all running, not tittering like mechalescents. But – who cared? So long as nobody interfered with this job. The door code had worked perfectly. Yeah - Smokey may be somewhat vague at times, but he sure knew his stuff.

There had been one rather odd com call from the Praxian. //Swin…// he’d crackled in strangled tones. //There’s somethin’ I gotta tell ya…//

The transmission had wavered. But Swindle had been too pleased with everything else to pay it much attention.

//Relax!// he’d said. //We’re nearly done here now. And thanks, pal! I owe ya one. I’ll give you a shout when Blast off’s loaded and I know about the Monacus deal…// But the com had already cut out.

“Swin …” Brawl was behind him. The tank now looked slightly unhappy.  “I think we stuffed these containers with about all they can take,” he said. “D’you think we can go now?” He shifted uncomfortably. “I don’t like underground stuff. I’m sorta feeling a bit – you know- _clusterphonic_. Like I wanna blast my way out.”

“Claustrophobic,” Vortex chuckled, patting Brawl’s shoulder reassuringly. “Yeah – lets call it a cycle. You never know, it might not be such plain sailing on the way out.” His optics glinted as he put a hand on the arm canon that Swindle saw had emerged. “I’m in the mood for a bit of action.”

But at that, Swindle’s annoyance returned. “I promised no casualties!” he snapped. “Now put that thing away, Tex. And lets get going before one or the other of you stuff things up.”

 

There was no stalling Prowl. He strode purposefully to the area outside the elevators, uncannily almost as though he _sensed_ that soon he’d be engaging in his most favourite pastime of all – catching criminals. His entourage followed, depressingly fervent in their pursuit as around them heads turned, but not in any way that would halt their progress.

Smokescreen almost whimpered out loud. _One,_ Swindle hadn’t listened – wasn’t prepared to listen (as usual) – and _two,_ ‘nearly done’ was bound to mean finding some means to stash even more of those credits away. How they had avoided being caught up to now was simply a miracle – especially since Smokescreen had also remembered, with horror, that he hadn’t even disabled the cameras. But if Prowl and company headed down there…

Smokescreen reeled at the consequences. Swindle, of course, would simply be mortified. But Vortex and Brawl? The sight of these well-groomed, exemplary wannabe officers of the straight and narrow would be enough to elicit a completely different reaction in Swindle’s companions – and no guesses as to what that would be.

Smokescreen shuddered. He could already see the shootout in the vestibule, hear the screams and yells, see the mechs running for cover, parts of those not so fortunate flying every which ways as energon sprayed liberally over the exquisite marble artifacts. Prowl’s team would fire with immaculate precision, but Brawl and Vortex would leap into action, blasting wantonly. Prowl’s new guys would be just no match for this formidable opposition…

And whilst under normal circumstances the thought of Vortex doing that would have been enough to make Smokescreen surge with excitement (however guilty it also might make him feel) now all he could do was shudder with dread. Any inkling of his own involvement and he would be finished at the Bank, his Praxian name shamed. As for the others? They would either be locked up for good, or he would never see them again.

And this time Prowl would never forgive him – ever. He'd probably see to it that Smokescreen got locked up as well.

But as they neared the elevator concourse, a series of pings sounded as several elevators arrived at once, the doors opening to reveal a plethora of Bank staff daubed in the dull green that was the security uniform. They went to emerge, but gasps came from their midst. And – what was this now? The object of their delight seemed to be none other than Prowl himself.

The mechs and femmes came out slowly, amid stifled giggles and excited whispers. They formed a line in front of the lifts as indeed all heads were turned towards Prowl. Optics glinted appreciatively. There was a pause, as Prowl and the others looked as mystified as Smokescreen felt.  

“Sir!” A youngster, evidently a trainee, stepped forward. “This is an honour. Could we possibly – I mean – is there a chance that we would be able…”

“We’d like your autograph!” Another young femme ventured. “We think you’re – amazing.  After what happened with that poor senator.” There were murmurs of concurrence.

The line parted as one elevator pinged again, the door re-opening. To Smokescreen’s astonishment, out stepped a bright red and white mech. He looked characteristically flustered, and Smokescreen knew this to be none other than Red Alert himself, the chief of Bank’s security.

“Sir!" Red Alert saluted Prowl. He glanced anxiously at the assembled crowd, then hastily back at the enforcer. “It was not my intention to arrange for quite such a greeting, but I must say we are _very_ honored to have you visit our institution.”

As the group spread out, general murmurs of approval sounded. Meanwhile Prowl merely stood there, looking embarrassed. He nodded curtly. “I appreciate your reception,” he said briefly. ‘However, I hardly consider myself worthy of this kind of attention. I was merely doing my duty...”

But the faces were so eager, the sounds of the admirers so encouraging. A thin smile appeared on Prowl’s face that gradually broadened. As he slowly took the first datapad, any further attempt to conceal his delight evaporated. Even Prowl, it seemed, liked a bit of attention - even if had caught him completely unawares. And so, it appeared, did his new recruits, who were now also starting to sign datapads. Suddenly, there was noise and cheer and excited chatter and - miraculously - examining the vault looked considerably less important.

 _I owe you one, Primus._ The relief was so great that Smokescreen was too busy appreciating it to take note of this hitherto hidden quality in his cousin, or the fact that the episode with the senator really had made him a lot more famous than Smokescreen had realized, or to ponder the fact that he, Smokescreen, by contrast passed completely unnoticed. He slunk back to his office, wasting no time in making another comm call. //Swin…//

//Relax Smokey! We’re home and hosed. Got ourselves a fortune! Blast Off’s just coming now. Good job done – hey, but Tex wants to know – how long till you knock off? It seems he don’t wanna go to Monacus without you//

An infinitely bigger smile than Prowl’s spread instantly over Smokescreen’s face. Who said he was down on his luck? Today had turned out exceptionally well after all.

 

“I knew Prowl got some mileage outta the senator business, but I never knew it had made him _that_ famous,” Smokescreen said. He sat pleasantly close to Vortex in the back of Blast Off, whilst Swindle rode in the cockpit ‘discussing business’ (as he put it) with the shuttle.

“I figured you might like some alone time,” Swindle had said. “Besides which, I need to work out my next move without Tex interfering.” 

It certainly was a pleasant change from Swindle’s former grouchiness and jealousy – a change that Smokescreen would no doubt investigate more thoroughly over a few drinks on Monacus (as Swindle rarely did things without his own interests at spark), but something that could remain unquestioned for now.

For it was even nicer to be alone with Tex – well, almost alone. But before the talking came to an end (as it surely would) Smokescreen was determined to get from Vortex this information about Prowl that the copter seemed to have; after all, Vortex knowing his own cousin better than he did was a little unnerving, and Smokescreen still hadn’t forgotten that he had to have that ‘conversation’ about the electro disruptor – or the fact that in his hurry he might not have quite erased all the footage from the Greenback vault cameras.

“Senator Soundwave? Oh yeah – he’s a big wheel,” Vortex said. “So they made a big deal outta Prowl saving him.” He nudged Smokescreen. “Don’t you ever watch the news?”

“I - er – well yeah! Of course!” Though he hadn’t – lately. He’d been too busy thinking about… well, not Prowl. Or Senator Soundwave.

“Prowl’s pretty good, you have to admit,” he said. Seeing his cousin surrounded by such admiration did seem to have cast him in a new light.

Not that Smokescreen hadn’t always secretly admired Prowl. That wasn’t the source of the ‘issues’ between them.

Vortex took a long sip from his cube of high grade. “Yeah,” he said. “Mind you – a few ‘tips offs’ always help. Prowl did get a little ‘assistance.’” He smiled. “Yeah – y’see we ain’t adverse to helping with the law, provided it works in our favour. Let’s just say that my boss thinks Senator Soundwave is – an OK kind of a guy."

“Mind you, it might not have worked in our favour if he’d found us in that vault …” Vortex’s lips nuzzled gently at Smokescreen’s helm. “Perhaps it’s best we just forget about all of that for now, huh? Time we had some fun…”

And surprised though Smokescreen was to find that Vortex actually possessed a thing called _political insight_ , and despite being unquestionably curious about the rest, he was quite happy to agree.

That was a topic which could also wait. For now. 

 


End file.
